


Learning Lessons

by Jay_Wells



Series: The Odd Life of Alexander Hamilton [15]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Faking Illness, Gen, Overworking, Parent-Child Relationship, Past Infidelity, Skipping Class, Sneaking Around, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-26
Updated: 2016-04-26
Packaged: 2018-06-04 14:30:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6662554
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jay_Wells/pseuds/Jay_Wells
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Philip has to come to terms with the fact that is father is deeply flawed, and that he still loves him while also being concerned for his mother.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Learning Lessons

“How are you so terrible with the ladies, man?” Georges was draped over the gymnasium railing. “They think you’re the hottest thing, but you’ve got absolutely no skill.”

“Why don’t  _ you  _ show me how to get girls then, if you’re gonna be judgy.” Philip pouted, watching the girls retreating forms.

Georges shrugged. “Not wasting my time. Why don’t you ask your dad? He’s pretty good with the ladies, if ya know what I mean.”

Philip spun around to face the older boy. “Excuse me? Don’t start talking shit on my dad, okay? It happened five years ago, and my parents are  _ fine, _ and he apologised. Publically. So drop it; the topic is dead.”

“No need to get upset, Phil, geez.” Georges said. “You know I love your dad, but he fucked up. Badly. You can’t just pretend he’s perfect and fight anyone who says otherwise.”  
“I know he fucked up, but while Dad’s infidelity is news to the rest of the world, the after-effects on my family has been my life for the past few years, and we didn’t let fucking personal documents leak to James fucking Callender.” He stormed off down the street to his house, and slammed the door shut behind him. He waited for his mother to scold him for slamming the door, but the house remained quiet. 

Philip checked the clock. It was 12:30pm on a Monday: Mom was at work, Dad would be at the office until at least eight, and his brothers and sister were at school. He had the entire house to himself until three. Mr. Adams never took attendance so wouldn’t notice Philip was absent, and even if he did, he hated Dad too much to call. 

The door to his Dad’s office was off the entry hallway. When he was little, his parents had told him not to enter the office, ever, because of very important documents stored in there. Recently the rule had relaxed somewhat, and he could enter the office, but only if Dad was in there. Philip usually listened to his parents, but he knew Dad still had the letters between Maria Reynolds and himself. He was already cutting class, which Dad would kill him for if he found out, so there was really nothing to lose if his father came home. If he knew his father, the man would be working overtime. Philip opened the door.

How clean the office was always surprised him. Dad’s ideas always seemed to come from nowhere, and he was so absent-minded it was hard to remember that he was meticulously organised in his work. Philip walked to the desk and started looking through the papers there. If he had just written the pamphlet, the papers might not have been re-filed yet. If they weren’t there, he’d have to resort to his dad’s hard drive, and breaking into his dad’s computer felt invasive. 

“Hey, stranger, what brings you to these parts?” 

Philip froze. Dad was standing in the doorway with a cup of coffee and a bagel. 

“Dad?” Philip backed up from the desk. “Uh, I got sick, so I came home. I took the sub.”

“Why didn’t you call me? I would’ve come and got you.” he said.

“I thought you were busy, and I didn’t want to bother you.” Philip shrugged. “Anyway, I just needed some paper to work on my homework.”

It was true that he usually didn’t go to his father for that very reason.

Dad looked stricken. “Philip, I am never too busy for you.”

That wasn’t quite true. He was at work a lot, and it would have been nice to have more nights where he read to them. Or to see him at dinner. They competed for his attention. But, yes, he was there when it counted and he kept his promises. The sentiment was earnest, at least.

“I know, Dad.” Philip snatched a piece of printer paper off the desk. “I just didn’t want to bother you.”

Fortunately, Dad was too upset about his admission to interrogate him further. “Okay. Do you want to do your homework in here with me? Actually, no,” he reached out to feel Philip’s forehead, “you should sleep. You feel okay right now, but … ”

But this was the man the cheated on his mother, then told the world. He wondered if Dad knew that Mom cried the entire night when she found out. He thought about what Georges said. Should he hate his father? Was loving him a betrayal to his mother? He loved Mom, but hating Dad made him sick. Angie was better at holding grudges against him.

“I’ll be fine, my stomach is just sore. I’m sure it’s nothing.” 

He couldn’t forget staying up all night reading when Mom was out of town or going to the movies or watching Dad on TV arguing a case on some important Constitutional law in kindergarten and proudly telling his classmates, “that’s my Daddy!”

“Philip -- alright, I suppose you would know how you feel.” Dad settled into his office chair.

“Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”


End file.
